Mojave Whiskey
by SgtBurrito
Summary: Fallout AU with Male Courier and his adventures in the Mojave with Cass.
1. Chapter 1

Cass had been at the Mojave Outpost for weeks. She was exhausted and she hadn't even left the Outpost. She was getting tired of sitting around drinking too, and that scared her. She had never tired of drinking before. Yet even the sight of a bottle now turned her stomach. She was bored, and she knew that was the underlying cause. But she was also restless. She had never stayed in one place for so long. It didn't help that she knew her caravan was a pile of ash somewhere out there in the desert. The thought made her miserable. It was eating her up inside, she could feel it. Then the courier came. The courier, with his new leather armor and that mechanical dog behind him. He was tall and his face looked as leathery as his armor. But he had a look about him, he was trustworthy and Cass could see that. He had showed up looking for work, Cass heard. It was a few days before Cass actually saw him, and that was when he came into the bar and sat beside her.

"You the one who runs Cassidy Caravans?" he asked.

Cass snorted.

"What's left of it, sure." She said.

He nodded, and Cass hated him for it. She felt the anger grow inside her, though it might have been the whiskey.

"What's it to you?" she asked.

"I was sent to buy you out," was the reply.

"Not for sale," she said with anger.

"Alice McLafferty sent me, from the Crimson Caravan Company," he continued.

"Well they must be pretty desperate. All that's left is my name and some dust, if even that." Cass was getting angrier.

"So why not sell out, you're stuck here otherwise," he said.

Cass could feel her cheeks burning.

"What if someone came to you and said they wanted to buy your name, what would you say?" she asked angrily.

The courier had opened his mouth to reply, but she wouldn't let him.

"You know what, I don't want to know. Not for sale."

He shrugged and ordered her a bottle of whiskey. He didn't say another word, and Cass hoped he was done.

"You're stuck here you know," he said after a minute, "It's the caravan that's holding you here, but it doesn't exist anymore."

She had to admit he was right, but her pride wouldn't let her.

"Couldn't leave by myself if I wanted to," she finally said, "The roads are too dangerous."

"And if I clear them?" he asked.

"You clear the road, and I'll sign my name to that paper." Cass said.

She watched him shrug and stand up. She hated him, but knew he was right. She couldn't stay there forever. She even felt part of her wish he would clear the roads so she could leave. She was a traveler at heart, and the outpost wasn't helping her. She watched him leave and absentmindedly played with the rose pendant at her neck.


	2. Chapter 2

Bruce left the Mojave Outpost slowly. With Rex trailing behind him, he made his way past the giant statues and crouched near the head of the road. He sighed and took out his binoculars. He watched the giant ants crawl around the road slowly, and frowned. He didn't think the ants would be difficult to remove, but he knew he had flustered his new acquaintance.

He scratched the back of his head and stood back up.

"Ready Rex?" he asked, looking at the dog.

Rex panted eagerly and looked up at him.

"I thought so." Bruce said, putting his rifle over his shoulder.

Bruce made his way down to the base of the hill and crouched behind the carcass of a Pre-War car. He lowered his rifle and looked down the sights. He took the nearest ant down with one shot, and reached for his pistol when the next ant began running toward him. Rex went after it with a growl, giving Bruce time to line up another shot.

The continued this method down the road, until there was nothing but carcasses around them. Bruce double checked to make sure the road was clear in both directions before turning back to the Outpost. The sun was beginning to set, and it was turning the Mojave orange as it passed behind the mountains.

Bruce wasted little time in getting his reward, and soon found himself inside the bar beside Cass again.

"Road is clear," he said minutes later.

"Well a deal is a deal," she sighed.

She watched as he reached in his pocket and took out the folded piece of paper. He slid it across the bar slowly and handed her a pen. She felt her cheeks turning red, but she wasn't angry. As soon as she had put the pen to paper, a wave of relief washed over her. She was free to go. The NCR could no longer hold her there.

"What will you do now?" Bruce asked.

"I don't know, wander the Mojave I suppose," Cass replied.

"Why not come with me?" he continued.

"Why would I do that?" Cass asked him with a hint of scorn.

He shrugged his large shoulders and crossed his arms.

"Could stay here for a while longer," was all he had to say.

"Travelling with you couldn't be much worse," Cass replied "but sure, I'll go with you."

They had left the outpost in no hurry. The courier had no sense of rush about him, walking easily ahead of Cass. His long strides put him well ahead of her, despite his speed, and Cass had difficulty keeping up with him. She caught up at the base of the hill, mostly because she refused to let him walk ahead of her as they crossed the Mojave. She was too proud for that.

She was walking beside him as they came onto the road he had cleared. She looked around at all the ant carcasses and was impressed with what he had done. She wouldn't tell him that, and she didn't show it. She still didn't like him, and wouldn't want him to think she did.

"What's your name?" she asked him, after the ant carcasses began sinking out of sight.

"Bruce, why?" he said.

"Figured if we were going to wander around together I ought to know your name," Cass replied.

He shrugged, and she continued.

"I'm Cass. Rose of Sharon Cassidy."

"Nice name," was all he said.

Cass didn't know why, but she felt drawn to him. She began to tell him of how her father had picked the name out of a Pre-War book, and how she had gotten the pendant at her neck. He listened silently, occasionally grunting to show he was still listening. Cass told him all she could think of. She felt comfortable with him, despite disliking him, and he was the first person outside of the Outpost she had spoken to in weeks. Then she told him of her caravan, and how it had gotten started, and how difficult it was to run, as well as how she became trapped at the Outpost. He became more interested then, having worked briefly for the Crimson Caravan Company himself. They began talking back and forth then, and it made her feel better knowing she wasn't just talking to a wall of flesh and leather.

They fell silent again until the sky got dark, and they could see the outline of Primm's rollercoaster in the night.

"Is whiskey your drink of choice?" Bruce asked.

"I guess so," Cass replied, "But I'll drink anything that will take the edge of the day, even make it myself if I'm a ways out of town. It's part of how I got my nickname."

"Nickname?" he asked again.

"Whiskey Rose. Granted I don't like most people who call me that. So now they just whisper it," she said, "Got that name partly because of my name, and partly because of the roses on my cheeks when I've had one too many."

Bruce had chuckled then. Cass wasn't sure if she liked that or not, but it was better than the grunting he had done most of the day.

They kept walking, until even Primm was out of sight.

"Where are we going, if I may ask?" Cass said as she looked up at the sky and how high the moon had gotten.

"The Strip," Bruce answered, "hoping to get there before daylight."

"What business you have there?" she asked.

"Got a meeting with Mr. House."

"What, he's real?"

"Yep. Talked to him on a big computer screen."

"You're kidding. You're taking orders from a face on a screen?" Cass was skeptical, "If you can't see a body it probably ain't up to any good."

Bruce shrugged continued leading them down the road. Cass didn't say anything else, but realized who Bruce was. Courier Six had been a name whispered around the Outpost for several days before Bruce's arrival. The NCR wanted him on their side, and apparently so did the Legion. The Mojave was not a safe place for him or for her now. No safer than it had ever been.


	3. Chapter 3

The Lucky 38 was as clean on the outside as it was on the inside. Cass couldn't believe she was actually getting to see the inside of it. She may have her reservations about Mr. House, but she had to admit the casino was a perk. Bruce had promised her any whiskey that she could find. They had taken the elevator to the suite, and Bruce had introduced her to Boone. Didn't much like him either, but Cass figured he was company.

Bruce had left to head to the Crimson Caravan Company. Cass was irritated because he had left her there. She wasn't thrilled about leaving one dump to stay trapped up in the next one. She found several bottles of whiskey in the desk drawer in the master bedroom, and began drinking. She downed two bottles and began pacing. She opened the next bottle and sat down angrily. She could understand why he didn't take her to see Alice McLafferty, but even seeing her would have been better than just sitting around. She told herself that at least the booze was free, and she began to prowl around.

There was nothing much lying around, and the top desk drawer was locked. So she made her way into the other room and sighed. The beds were nice, so she laid down and took a large swig from the bottle in her hand.

By the time she finished the bottle, Bruce was back and fumbling around in his desk. Yawning, she got up and went in there to see if she was going to do something other than sit around all day.

She found him sitting behind the desk, fiddling with his Pip-Boy. He had taken his armor off, and was sitting there in a t-shirt that Cass assumed had once been white. She stood in the doorway watching him, careful not to interrupt whatever he might be doing.

That was when she saw it, the scar on his left forearm, slightly raised above the rest of his skin. Shaped exactly like a bull, pink but faded compared to the tan, leathery skin around it. Legion.

She drew her knife instantly and was across the room before Bruce knew what hit him. She grabbed his collar and slammed into the floor with him and had the knife against his neck. She sat across his chest and pinned his arms, making sure she maintained her balance.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" Bruce yelled at her once he saw her on top of him.

"Who the hell are you?" Cass hissed, pushing down on the knife, "and why do you have the mark of the Legion?"

Bruce frowned and watched her. Cass could not see fear or alarm in his eyes, but refused to move without an answer. His eyes were the color of whiskey, and they were staring calmly back at her as the knife shook slightly in her hand. She balled up her free hand and punched him.

"Who the fuck are you?" she asked again.

Bruce watched her patiently and she felt a strong arm wrap around her waist. Boone was behind her, and had grabbed the arm holding the knife and lifted her into the air and off of Bruce.

"PUT ME DOWN YOU STUPID SHIT HEAD!" Cass screamed.

"You need to settle down," Boone said gruffly, walking backwards with her.

"You're fucking NCR and you're letting this Legion bastard go loose?" Cass shouted as she fought against him.

Bruce stood back up and stretched his shoulders. He took the knife that Cass had been forced to drop, and looked at it.

"If you calm down, I'll tell you the truth," he said frankly.

Cass felt her cheeks turn red and she gritted her teeth and nodded. Boone released her, but stood immediately behind her to grab her again if needed.

Bruce held his arm out so Cass could see the scar of the bull again.

"You see this?" he asked her.

She nodded.

"I am the only man in the Mojave that has this mark," he said, "Caesar marked me himself. I was the head of the Praetorian Guard. Caesar sent me on my own special mission. I was sent to send a message. The message required me to kill a woman and her two children. I refused."

He wasn't looking at Cass anymore, he was looking past her at something that her own eyes couldn't see.

"Caesar has eyes all over the Mojave, everyone knows that," Bruce continued, "But I didn't think they'd find me. Caesar wouldn't kill me. I didn't deserve that. He killed my wife. He killed my son. He killed my brother. And I watched."

Bruce sighed and removed his shirt. He was muscular, and his skin was pulled tightly over his arms and torso. But Cass couldn't appreciate it. Nearly every inch of his upper arms and torso were covered in straight deep scars. They were long and thick, even covering his back.

"Caesar did this too," Bruce added, turning around so Cass could see, "My second punishment. After killing my family, he stood me in the middle of his tent, and had me beaten."

He put his shirt back on and looked at her again.

"He wouldn't kill me. He wanted me to live with what I had brought upon myself. Caesar wanted me to know never to cross the Legion."

He handed Cass her knife back.

"My name is Brutus Septimus Scipio. I was a husband, and a father. But that is behind me now. I became a courier. That is behind me now too, and I see that."

Cass was speechless. Her heart ached for this man standing before her, but all she could do was look at him.

"I'm sorry," she finally said, "Brutus, huh?"

"Not anymore," he answered, "It's Bruce."

"Well Bruce," she said, "You're pretty fucked up. I will be more than happy to wander the Mojave with you."

He smiled, and she could see the twinkle in his whiskey eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

Bruce left the Lucky 38 that night and left Boone and Cass alone. Boone wasn't much for conversation, which suited Cass just fine. She finished the last bottle of whiskey and stumbled into the bathroom. The water was clean, and wasn't radioactive, so Cass ran herself a bath and yawned. She figured she might as well enjoy herself.

She stripped down carefully and sank into the tub. It had been a long time since she had been able to enjoy a bath with clean water. Cass leaned her head back and sighed. The water was warm, and felt good against her skin. Her pendant sank against her chest and was heated by the water. She could definitely get used to this. She felt her eyes get heavy, whether by the whiskey or by the warmth of the water against her. She tried fighting it briefly, but slowly her eyes became too heavy and she began to doze.

It was the door slamming that woke her up. She was freezing, the water was no longer warm, and she could feel herself shaking. She climbed out of the tub and dried off, trying to warm herself in the process. Her head was throbbing and she could still feel the whiskey in her blood as she tried to dress herself. She could feel the hangover just waiting in the shadows.

She stumbled out of the bathroom and looked into the hallway. It was Bruce. Cass watched as he staggered down the hallway and into the master bedroom. It made her think of the other soft beds in the suite and she yawned. A bed sounded nice. She wandered into the second bedroom and collapsed onto the free mattress. She barely noticed Boone's snoring before she fell asleep.

The morning came early. Her hangover wasn't as bad as she had anticipated, but Cass still found the headache nearly unbearable. She rolled out of bed with a groan and reached for her hat. She could hear someone humming in the hallway, so she rubbed her head and headed towards the sound.

Cass found Bruce in the hallway, fastening on his leather armor. He was humming the tune of Big Iron, and Cass could hear Mr. New Vegas rambling from Bruce's PipBoy.

"Morning sunshine," Bruce said to her with a stretch, "willing to do some walking?"

"Where to?" Cass asked.

"Nipton," Bruce answered, "I heard one of the NCR officers at the outpost say something about not hearing from Nipton in a few days. Someone saw smoke. They asked me to look into it."

"Well what are we sitting around here for?" Cass asked.

Bruce shrugged and stepped into the elevator. Cass joined him and was glad she was getting a new chance to wander the Mojave.

The sun had not yet risen over the horizon when they left, but the air was still hot and dry. Bruce handed Cass some purified water for later, and the pair of them trudged on the road toward Nipton with Rex at their heels. They were both happy to travel in silence, until they were ambushed by a pair of Powder Gangers.

Cass waited while Bruce looted the bodies, and opened one of the water bottles. She rubbed a handful onto her face and yawned.

"Tired?" Bruce asked, stuffing a handful of caps in his pocket.

"Don't know what to call it," Cass replied, "but this trip is pretty uneventful."

"That will change," Bruce grunted.

"What are you expecting?" she asked.

Bruce shrugged and made his way back onto the road. Cass walked alongside him and waited. She was irritated again, and couldn't figure out why, and several minutes passed before they spoke again.

"I know you don't favor them, but what do you really think of the Legion?" Bruce finally asked.

"I don't deal with slavers," Cass said, "and I've seen how they treat women like Brahmin."

Bruce grunted again, and Cass decided to continue.

"What about you? How many slaves did you take?"

"I didn't," Bruce answered, "I was in charge of guarding Caesar. Sometimes I did special things at his request, like overseeing important affairs."

"Pretty vague," Cass said "but it couldn't have been too bad a set up for you."

"He trusted me," Bruce shrugged, "he liked me too. That's part of why he didn't have me killed."

"Well is that a good thing?" she asked.

"Not if the life you receive is miserable."

His voice took a sharp turn at this, and Cass didn't respond. She figured it was better to leave it.

When they passed Primm, they stopped to rest. The Mojave was scalding, and Cass downed the rest of her water. Bruce stood nearby, looking at his PipBoy. When he stopped, she decided it was a good time to question him again.

"So, you never said what you were expecting in Nipton."

"Well, I'm ready for the worst." Bruce said, "And we may get it too. Just promise you'll keep that knife to yourself?"

Cass laughed.

"Legion, huh?" she asked, "Well as long as I can still use my fists, the knife won't be needed."

"I'm serious." Bruce glared, "That'll get you killed."

"Then I'll get killed giving those Legion bastards what for."

He glared again, and began walking faster down the road. Cass decided to follow at a distance, since it wasn't worth the effort to keep up with him. He wasn't much for conversation anyway. She'd have killed for a whiskey then too, but had only brought two bottles with her. She was going to save them. If she was going to run into Legion, she wanted to have a drink at hand.

Bruce finally slowed down after a while, and stopped to wait on Cass when a large cloud of dark smoke came into view. He turned to her briefly and sighed, and they resumed their walk, until Nipton could be seen underneath the pillars of smoke filling the air.

The air got cloudier as they got closer, but was clear enough for Cass to see two flags erected on either side of the road. Even through the dark smoke, she could make out the crimson cloth, and the golden bull. Legion. She looked around carefully, noting how stiff Bruce became, and the look of disgust that had taken him.

They approached cautiously but even before they could make out the figures in front of the town hall, they could see the fires and bodies crucified along the street.


	5. Chapter 5

Bruce was uneasy as they walked down the main street of Nipton. Cass walked beside him cautiously and looked around. There was a group of Legion troops standing in front of the town hall, and Cass could see a tall man coming down between them with what appeared to be a fox on his head. Cass saw Bruce had noticed too.

"Leave." Bruce nearly hissed at her.

He was watching the man out of the corner of his eye, but could not have been heard over the sound of the moaning of those dying on the makeshift crosses.

"I'm not going anywhere," Cass spat back, "I'm not a delicate little flower."

The man continued to approach, and Cass eyed him warily. Expecting him to attack, she was shocked when he walked straight up to Bruce without lifting a finger.

"Look what we have here," the man said coldly, looking Bruce over, "Pathetic Brutus, the coward."

"Vulpes," Bruce replied, standing stiffly beside Cass.

Rex started growling savagely.

"Don't worry, Brutus. I won't have you lashed to a cross like the rest of these degenerates."

"Vulpes what the hell did you do?"

"We taught a lesson."

"And what lesson is that?" Bruce was getting irritated, Cass could hear it in his voice.

The man took a step closer. He was inches away from Bruce then. Cass could have reached out and killed him, but thought better of it, seeing the troops behind him.

"That they are weak and we are strong. You know all too well about that, Brutus. Nipton was a town of whores."

"Strange way to treat a whore," Cass said in anger.

The man laughed. There was an icy evil tone to it. Cass felt a chill run down her spine.

"When Legionaries are disloyal, some are punished, the others made to watch," he looked at Bruce with a wicked grin as he said it, "That is what happened here."

Cass was tempted to cut the man's throat right there, to hell with what his troops did.

"And who's next?" Bruce asked. Cass could see he was highly concerned.

The man shrugged.

"That's a surprise," he chuckled, before turning his back on them.

Cass stood silently beside Bruce and watched him leave. The rest of the group had followed him without even casting a second glance in their direction. Cass watched them march out of sight before she noticed Bruce was shaking. Silently, she reached in her pack and took out a bottle of whiskey. She offered it to Bruce without a word, and he took it. He drank a large gulp of it and sighed before passing it back.

Then Cass watched as he walked up to the individuals crucified on either side of the street. Close to half of them were still barely alive. She tried not to notice all the heads impaled on spikes nearby.

"What do you want to do about them?" She asked finally.

"Nothing we can do," Bruce replied, "taking them down will kill them."

Cass nodded and felt her cheeks growing red. She should have killed the man in the fox hat when she had the chance.

Bruce stared at the ground for a few moments lost in thought. Then Cass watched as he took out his pistol and walked up to the first crucified man that was breathing. Bruce looked up at the man and sighed.

"I'm sorry." Bruce said. A shot rang out.

Cass watched him treat the second person in the same fashion. Then she too took out her pistol and turned to the opposite side of the street. An apology and a quick end were all they could give them at the moment. But Cass had a feeling there would be justice.

When the last shot had left the air, Bruce holstered his pistol and turned to her.

"I need a favor," he said.

"Lay it on me," Cass told him.

He sighed and handed her the NCR service rifle on his back.

"I need to go back to the Outpost and tell them what happened," Bruce told her, "take Rex and go to the Lucky 38."

"Why?" Cass asked.

"Get Boone," he continued, "fill him in. Meet me in Goodsprings."

"Goodsprings? What the fuck is in Goodsprings?"

"Friends." Bruce was looking at her desperately. "Please."

Cass nodded and slung the rifle over her shoulder. She finished the open bottle of whiskey and clicked her tongue at Rex, who bounced over happily. Bruce nodded once at her and they turned their separate ways.


End file.
